


Weight of the World

by Omeg



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Fictional Religion & Theology, Multi, Religion, Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omeg/pseuds/Omeg
Summary: Oscar had a simple life, or at least a relatively normal one. This life came to an end once he got possessed by the spirit of Emperor Ozpin, the divine ruler of the Valean Empire, who demands him to take up the rulership of this most glorious nation. Now he has to figure out how to rule an immense empire, how to live with a creepy voice in his head and how to avoid the threat of death at the hands of his enemies... but at least he has a nice palace now.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Opposing Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally going to be a semi-serious parody of harem fics, but as new ideas came at me, I figured this could be a decently-lengthy and decently-serious story. There will be some dark themes, as per usual with my stories, but nothing gory. Still, just because I used no archive warnings doesn't mean everything's going to be nice and fluffy. You read at your own risk.
> 
> There will be some pairings, but I'd rather keep them secret. Partially as to avoid spoilers, and partially because I'm not that sure of what I want to do myself.

Oscar was pushing a cart. 

That seemed to be a constant of his life. Farming wasn’t all boring, it actually involved many different activities, some more pleasant and less complicated than the others. Some of them, he even sort of enjoyed. Planting seeds or ripping out the weeds, these things brought a sense of fulfillment, made you feel as though you were doing not only something productive, but something important. Or at the very least, you could tell yourself that you were doing something amazing by allowing the plants to grow properly.

Pushing the cart, on the other hand, was just plain boring. And tiresome. And embarrassing, given the circumstances. He had just returned from the market, having sold as many vegetables as he could. Since he didn’t sold all that much, the cart was still heavy. Most its contents would likely go to the compost heap, so that they may one day be used to grow more, hopefully prettier vegetables. But before that they had to be delivered to the farm, and that required Oscar to push the damn cart.

To be fair, the cart itself wasn’t the problem, but rather the ground it had to roll on. Or maybe mud, all that remained from the road after a bit of rain had fallen on it an hour earlier. All normal in the city of Cairn.

It wasn’t even a city, really. More like a town that just happened to be the biggest settlement in the area Oscar lived in. It was the place you went to sell your crops, the place you went to buy whatever you needed, and one of the only places of interest in this province of Vale. This meant that Oscar had been visiting this place quite regularly and was familiar with its streets enough to navigate them without much trouble.

Didn’t mean he liked it. It was constantly dirty, which he was somewhat used to, and crowded, which was more bothersome. Even though the peak hours were over, the market still had a fair bit of people running around, trying to haggle with the merchants and shouting over each other to get the best prices for exotic foods, furniture, trinkets or slaves.

Yeah, that was a thing too. Not just in Cairn, but in all corners of the Valean Empire, the slave trade was a profitable and an entirely legal business. Oscar hated it and wasn’t alone in that sentiment – slavery was around since seemingly forever, but by now most people realized just how messed up it was. Just a way for rich folk and aristocrats to run their farms and mines without having to pay their workers, to have servants they can freely discipline or to use people for other, even less savory purposes. But since those kind of people were the ones in power, slavery was still common and probably not going anywhere.

Oscar could vaguely hear some shouts coming from the part of the square that made up the slave market. Nothing extraordinary, just people arguing over the prices and guarantees as always, but that’s what made it so creepy. For both the venders and the buyers, such trade was something normal and the only thing to be concerned about was the quality of the deal being offered.

Oscar tuned the noises out as he pressed on towards the city gates. Luckily he wasn’t that far away and he could already see the chapel that stood near the entrance, reminding the incomers that the Emperor was watching them and that it wouldn’t pay off to break his laws while in town.

As he passed the building, Oscar plotted a circle in air with one of his fingers. It was more out of habit than anything else – he knew that the Emperor was real and he had nothing against him, but truth be told, he was never the most devout of believers. He did not care much about the prophecies of who the next host would be, nor did he wish death upon all the ones the church would call heathens. As long as the Emperor stayed somewhere far away, Oscar would only give him rudimentary respect.

He had to show considerably more respect to the guards who stopped him before he could exit the town. He had already paid his taxes – out of every item taken to the market, what a rip-off – so all that remained was proving that he wasn’t trying to smuggle anything outside. That done, Oscar was allowed to pass through the gate and push his cart outside of city’s bounds.

While he was relieved to be in the open, where buildings were not obscuring the sun and there was no risk of getting mugged by someone jumping from behind one, Oscar knew he couldn’t rest just yet. There was a long road ahead of him and not a very pleasant one at that. There were several miles between him and his home, mostly fields and a small patch of forest that wasn’t cut down yet, supposedly due to having some Grimm roaming in its depths. Oscar wasn’t afraid of these things – the few he ever saw had been easy enough to dispatch – but the path through the forest was bound to rugged and muddy. 

The state of the roads in the province was a common complaint, though not one that would get addressed any time soon. Building a road required some major manpower, and while the Empire had enough slaves to brute-force their way through the problem, those weren't usually very diligent and the road would end up breaking apart pretty soon. Hiring free laborers would be more costly, and these costs were in addition to the lien spent on gravel and sand which for all its abundance weren't at all easy to transport...

...how did he know how much the materials cost? He wasn't used to gossiping about prices of gravel of all things. He must have overheard something at the market and remember it for some strange reason. In any case, knowledge how to build roads would not help him at the moment. Might as well forget it.

The boy sighed, gripped the handles of the cart a little tighter, and resumed pushing forward.

/-/

The sun was nearing the horizon by the time Oscar reached the farm. By now he was ungodly tired and could barely think of anything other than rest, but the sight of the small estate did make him feel a little better.

It wasn’t anything large or all that pretty. Not a large field gilded with wheat, not a latifundium where grapes and citrus were grown, but a single building with a small garden on one side and a chicken coop on the other. It was visibly worn down, a sign that it has been built a long time ago and not renovated all that often. The structure served both as a place of work and as housing, a necessary compromise considering how expensive land and decent building blocks were.

Nonetheless , Oscar was proud of it. He didn’t build or own the estate, of course, but he was responsible for maintaining it and performing various gardening duties. Under his care, the farm produced enough crops, eggs and meat to provide for the place and its occupants. If that wasn’t something to be proud of, he wasn’t sure what was.

Once he reached the building, Oscar finally put the cart down near the wall. There was no use securing it, as its content wasn’t very valuable. Or rather it was extremely valuable as food for the plants, but not exactly something most people would opt to steal.  
Once free of his burden, Oscar headed for the door. He pushed it open, jumped off his shoes and walked inside the house, glad to finally be indoors after all that time. Driven part by habit, part instinct, he walked straight into the kitchen and locked his sight onto the table. As he had hoped, there was a bowl there, one filled with what looked like cauliflower soup.

Oscar loved his aunt. Maybe not like he loved his parents, blessed be their memory, but he could hardly imagine living without her. He would have thanked her for leaving a meal, but he knew that she was likely sleeping right now. She got up even earlier than Oscar this morning and at her age she needed quite a bit of sleep.

Taking a wooden spoon into his hand, Oscar began munching down on the soup. It was still a little warm, which he counted as a surprising bit of good luck. In fact, now that he looked back at it, the entire day wasn't all that bad. He had sold everything he could reasonably hope to sell, didn't get mugged or anything like that and he managed to return before the sun was set. Not bad, not for a market day anyway.

Once he was done, Oscar put the bowl away, close to the other dishes that had to be washed eventually. Maybe tomorrow, though not until after chickens were fed and the garden was watered. There was order to things. Right now, the first thing in that order was catching some damn rest. 

It didn't took the boy much time to reach his room. The house wasn't particularly big, and the room itself reflected that. It contained a bed, a table and what could be generously called a wardrobe. On the table lied a single item, likely the most valuable thing Oscar owned.

As he lied down on the bed, Oscar grabbed the book and opened it one the fortieth page. He got the entire thing memorized since he bought it last autumn. The only printing house in Cairn had several of these to sell, and the price happened to be just what Oscar was able to afford at the moment. 

It was a novel, one telling a story set during the First War of Atlas. As far as Oscar could recall, the text had been written shortly after the war, though only got published in large numbers after the second conflict concluded and the enemy kingdom surrendered. Probably something to do with propaganda, or maybe people didn't have as much money to spare on books during wartime itself. In any case, it was a real good book.

Well, Oscar couldn't really compare it to any others, as all he read save for it were parts of the _Book of Ozma_ and some pamphlets he found in a tavern. He liked reading for its own sake, glad to have that ability over most people in the kingdom, but _War and Victory_ actually had a story to tell. Characters, plot and such. No matter how many times he reread it, the book captivated Oscar with its descriptions of war, and just distant lands in general. Simple imagination wasn't nearly as good as fantasy based on words and supported by illustrations.

Right now though, he didn't want to start a new reread. He just skimmed through the parts he found particularly interesting, until his mind got a little bit tired as well. Then he carefully put the book away, and, with bliss, allowed himself to fall asleep.

/-/

_The battlefield smelled of blood and gunpowder, the former smell more fresh than the latter. All the batteries, all the muskets ceased firing hours ago, as the battle lost all semblance of order and devolved into wild melee, blood flowing from both sides in what seemed to be an equal measure. Yet to a strategic mind, one that has spent the entire course of the battle counting bodies and foreseeing outcomes, it was clear which side was now reigning victorious. For all the struggle, it was yet another victory for the Valean Empire._

_Not that there was any triumph in such victory. With his aura low and his elderly body tired, Emperor Ozpin marched through the battleground. Some bodies still twitched, semblance of life remaining. Others were truly alive, if one could call brink of death such. He wished he could say there was an urge to help the dying, to ease their suffering, but all that remained now was the determination to see the battle ended._

_He slowly climbed onto the hill that the Atlesian troops had staunchly defended just an hour ago. Now there was naught but craters and more bodies, but there was someone he expected to see there..._

_There he was. A sole figured emerged from behind the peak, marching forward to meet Ozpin head on. A silhouette tall and broad, walking slowly as though wounded, but not stopping even for a moment. As the other man closed in, Ozpin could see his features better; short hair and a significantly longer beard, both black with white linings. That was the look of a wise leader, likely developed intentionally as to convey respect and authority. Even the clearly wounded arm, damaged from what probably was some soldier's lucky shot, didn't make that man look weak by any means._

_"High Marshal Ironwood." Ozpin was surprised at how tired his voice was. "Have you decided to listen to reason?"_

_"I do not intend to surrender, no." The bearded man replied. "I have this much honor left."_

_"Your honor? What has it led to? Can you look around and say your defiance paid off?"_

_"You are the invader here." Ironwood growled. "You chose to wage this war."_

_"I only chose to unite people." Ozpin replied, forcing himself to put the barest effort to sound convincing. "Your people would not be enslaved had you just cooperated. Even now, you may still bend a knee and survive, High Marshal."_

_"And what awaits me then?" The Atlesian shot back. "Few years of life in a cell? A year of slaving away in the dust mines? Tell me about it, my Emperor."_

_Ozpin could have argued further, but at this instant he realized that Ironwood was simply stalling in a way that didn't damage his pride. Why he was doing it... but of course, the remains of his army were likely fleeing from the battlefield, and they had a better chance at getting away if the Emperor wasn't there to lead the chase personally. Ozpin made a note to treat those soldiers honorably... but it was granted that his own men would be vengeful after such a costly battle..._

_All of this made him so tired..._

_"I will not hesitate to kill you, High Marshal." He said. "It will bring me no joy, but I shall do it."_

_"You shall try." Ironwood replied, his tone not at all betraying how fake his confidence surely was. He drew a pistol with his one operational arm, a crafty thing but one without the sheer power to break what remained of Ozpin's aura._

_Nonetheless, there was no point drawing this any further out. High Marshal Ironwood was the enemy, and thus he had to be eliminated. It was that simple._

_Without giving his opponent any warning, Ozpin shot forward. Within a fraction of a second he unsheathed his sword, the Relic of Destruction itself, and raised it as to end the target's life in one, swift blow, before he had a chance to react or even before fear could truly take a hold of him._

_Amazingly, Ironwood did react. Without aiming, without even raising his pistol fully, he fired the gun the moment it was aimed roughly in his opponent's direction. The bang was deafening and the bullet impacted with Ozpin's hip, causing quite a bit of pain in the process._

_But the force of the impact was not nearly strong enough to negate Ozpin's momentum and it did nothing to stop the killing blow. The Sword of Destruction flared as it impacted with the High Marshal's neck, cutting through it not as though through butter, but swifter than through air itself. That was the power the gods bestowed upon the weapon, the power now used to end the life of James Ironwood._

_As the High Marshal's head impacted the ground, Ozpin decided to follow. He didn't as much sat down as he collapsed onto the ground, his exhaustion in equal measure physical and mental. There was part of him that felt satisfied to have achieved his goal, but his negative emotions were likely strong enough for the Grimm of the Northern Mountains to sense them. There was his disgust with the bloodshed, sorrow at having led so many men to their deaths and..._

_Oh. There was a deep wound that was now spilling blood all over the ground. That was unpleasant too._

_It was strange that his aura wasn't up to absorb the blow. Novice fighters would often forget to shield themselves, but he had centuries upon centuries of combat experience. It could have been the exhaustion that caused him to react slowly, or it might have been... no, it was definitely because of how tired he was._

_And now he was getting even more tired. The crimson liquid was slowly leaving his veins, life escaping out of him alongside the blood. He was familiar with the feeling, many of his deaths had taken place in combat and rarely due to one, instant blow. The sensation of dying from the battle wounds was not novel to him, let alone scary._

_He could hear someone running in his general direction, from the southern side. His men catching up to him, apparently. It was convenient, as even if they had no medic with them, at least they would be able to secure the Sword. Having one of the Four relics fall into the wrong hands once again would mean a world of trouble, even if no one else knew how to utilize its true potential._

_With that taken care of, Ozpin was fine with bleeding out. He would be reborn eventually and the original owner of his body was long dead anyway. If any part of him was still alive inside the soul of the Emperor, maybe it would be glad to have its body finally die. For this immortal parasite to leave it alone. With such a sentiment, Ozpin would agree._

_He just wanted it to end..._

/-/

Oscar woke up panting heavily. He didn't scream, but for a moment he really felt like it. The images from his dream, from his nightmare were still lingering in his mind, still making him unsettled and almost nauseous. The sight of all the dead, the moans of the dying, the smell of the blood... it was simply too much.

The boy stood up, leaving the warmth of his bed. He normally didn't get up in the middle of the night, even if something woke him up, knowing that it could end with him being seriously tired by the morning, but now he decided to make an exception. He really had to catch some air, maybe drink some water. It would help him center himself.

Careful not to trip in the darkness of the corridors, Oscar made his way through the house. Once he got outside he had the light of the shattered moon to show him the way, but he still had to be wary of tripping over some stone or an misplaced gardening tool. Therefore it took him quite some time to reach the chicken pen and the bucket of water he remember he left there.

Paying no attention to the few bird that got woken up due to his arrival, Oscar scooped some water into his hands and then splashed it all over his face. Having such a cold liquid wash over him wasn't very pleasant, but it felt freshening, and that was the entire point.

Now that he was more awake, Oscar thought back to the dream he just had. He was no stranger to having colorful dreams like that - a feature of reading before going to bed, he supposed - but that one was different than most. It seemed to have portrayed a scene of war, not unlike those described in the book, but it felt real in a way few dreams did. Also, was there anything in the book that described the Emperor himself, let alone his death at the hands of the Atlesians? No, that wouldn't happen for years after the events described.

Oscar shuddered as he recalled the full extent of his dream. He had imagined himself as Emperor Ozpin, the most recent incarnation of this divine spirit, during his final battle in Atlas. That in itself was sort of weird, but what was really unsettling were the thoughts he had during that scene. The feelings. Doubt, reluctance, let alone shame were not the emotions that man was said to exhibit. Most people would be gravely offended if Oscar told them he though the Emperor should be ashamed of something. Some would even call him a blasphemer, and a select few would wish to punish him in the most unpleasant of ways. And if he told them that he had visions of being the Emperor... well, that would certainly not end well.

He knelt over the bucket, just managing to see his reflection in the sheet of water. It was the same he saw last time he looked himself in the eye, an image of a young boy with tanned skin, a number of freckles on his cheeks, black hair and eyes in a brownish colors - 'burnt orange , he heard someone describe it once. Aside from an unusually hard-to-describe color, he looked fairly normal. Not like the next Emperor and not like a foul servant of the Grimm powers that would try to usurp him. Just a farmhand who just had a bad dream.

And then his eyes flashed.

Oscar jumped backwards, landing in the dirt in the process. The flash of yellow light in his eyes was not something he had expected and even after a few moments, during which he realized there was no danger around, he did not manage to explain.

Could he have imagined it? No, not really. A flash of light in the darkness not something imagination could just make you see. And other than that, he could not think of a reason for why his eyes would suddenly start glowing in the dark? Was he turning into a cat? Or...

 _"Can you hear me!?"_ Oscar heard a loud voice. He shot up and began frantically looking around, trying to locate the source.

 _"Yes! I knew it would work eventually!"_ The voice exclaimed. Oscar realized that there was no source, at least not outside - somehow, the voice was coming from inside his head.

_"Well I would not put it like that..."_

Oscar screamed in panic, this time having a good enough reason. It seemed like he was possessed by a Grimm spirit, one of these that made your mind their home and slowly drove you to madness.

 _"You are not possessed."_ The voice assured him. _"Well, you are in a manner of speaking, but the specifics are far more pleasant than you would have guessed..."_

 _"Shut up! Go away!"_ Oscar yelled at the spirit, as though it would convince it to leave. He realized that there was probably no such luck and he would end up driven mad soon enough.

 _"Can you please cease shouting?"_ The voice requested. _"I can answer any and all questions you might have, but I doubt you wish to explain the situation to your aunt."_

Oscar had to concede that point. Though it was a silly fear, as the matter would come up eventually, he did not want to have to reveal the truth of his possession right now. _"Alright... but I have to talk to ask questions."_

_"As a matter of fact, you do not. Try forming the sentences in your head. Not as abstract thoughts, but sentences with words and vowels. I promise to only listen to those and not violate your privace by lurking deeper inside your mind. That should allow us to communicate in a fairly conventional manner."_

_"Like that?"_ Oscar followed the spirit's instruction.

_"Excellent. Now, what is it that you are concerned about?"_

_"For one, I wish to know what kind of evil spirit are you."_ Oscar replied mentally. _"Are you the kind that goes away after a simple exorcism, or the kind that will get me locked up in a lunatic asylum?"_

_"Neither, actually. I am the soul of the man once called Ozma, more recently known as Emperor Ozpin."_

_"Oh give it up."_ Oscar tried to make his thought sound like a growl. _"Do you really think that will work?_

 _"I do not know what 'it' is, so no."_ The spirit replied. _"Do you suspect I am tricking you."_

_"Well yeah. It's not a new tactic. Any Grimm spirit will try to deceive its victim, proclaim to be an angel or something like that. Impersonating the Emperor is just a bolder, less believable version of that."_

_"What is so unbelievable about that?"_ The spirit inquired. _"You are aware that my, or the Emperor's spirit reincarnates a period of time after its host dies. And I have been dead for quite a while now."_

_"Of course I know that. I also happen to know that the honor of hosting the Emperor is only granted to the most courageous of warriors, the most pious priests, or occasionally the most brilliant of scholars..."_

_"Please take everything the Church says about the process with enough salt to fill a galleon. While I admire your humility, there is no reason my soul wouldn't end up with yours."_

_"And the part about merging souls?"_ Oscar asked, remembering the sermons he once used to attend. _"Because I have a feeling you are going to try to possess me properly and call it an ascension, or one of these kind of terms."_

_"I do not have a habit of mincing words. Our souls will fuse in time, but it will take months at least, likely years. It is certainly not our most pressing issue."_

_"Right, the current issue is me not buying anything you're saying."_ Oscar reminded his guest.

_"Right. I suppose there are no questions only a separate entity would know an answer to? I know a lot of things you would have no way of knowing and I would not mind passing a test such as that."_

_"Alright, I guess..._ " Oscar paused to think of some fitting question. _"Can you tell me anything about the Beacon Palace? You know, the seat of Imperial Power, a place you definitely spent a lot of time in, if you are who you claim to be."_

_"Four spires, five bastions, resembles a circle from bird's view. Heavy use of terracotta, has a large courtyard on its westward side. Do these facts check out?"_

_"Um, I don't know."_ Oscar replied, feeling a little embarrassed. He never saw the Palace himself, never having set his foot anywhere close to the City of Vale, let alone knew all the technical details. _"And don't know many people who do, so I'm not sure how would I go about verifying all this."_

_"Well, I happen to know a way. Pack your belongings and go there, then tell the Seneschal that you are my next incarnation."_

_"What!?"_ Oscar forgot about 'do not speak aloud' rule, that's how strongly he felt about the idea. _"I can't just drop everything right now and head for Vale!"_

 _"Quiet, please."_ The spirit remonstrated. _"And yes, you can drop everything and head for Vale, maybe not in this exact moment, but soon enough. I assure you, the importance of it is far greater than whatever matters you attended to thus far."_

 _"But I still don't know if what you're saying is true!"_ Oscar protested, barely stopping himself from yelling out loud again.

_"Think about it logically, young man. If I truly am an evil spirit or a flaw of your psyche, and I assure you I'm neither, the City of Vale is one of the best places for you to seek actual help. "_

_"Flaw of my psyche...?"_ Oscar could recall hearing the word, but wasn't sure what that phrase was supposed to mean.

_"My point exactly. Have no doubt that your aunt, no matter her intentions, would not be able to help you if you were actually suffering from a mental... possession. Neither would anyone from any of the nearby farms, likely no one in that city you just came back from. In Vale you have a chance of finding a solution to your problem, whatever you believe it is."_

Oscar considered these words. He did know that the best scholars, medics and specialists in general stuck to the largest of cities, and Vale was possibly the biggest city in the entire Remnant. He had no idea how he would convince any of these to help him in particular, but even if that failed, he could bet the city had the most comfortable asylums around.

 _"And if by any chance I am right and honest, think what it means for you."_ The spirit kept arguing. _"Do you want to be known as someone who, upon being told of hs destiny, spent months toiling away at some small farm? A pretty farm, I admit, but I doubt the future generations would approve of such an attitude."_

 _"I can see your point."_ Oscar admitted. _"Still, you are asking me for a lot. To just leave everything behind."_

 _"True, and I do sympathize with your struggle."_ The spirit assured him. _"But I offer quite a lot in return. The life of the Emperor can get very stressful and possibly painful during times of war, but is somewhat less stressful and may be extremely pleasant during the times of peace."_

_"You are saying..."_

_"I am saying I have a rather large palace."_ The spirit interrupted Oscar's thought. _"And a lot of servants managing it, and a few interesting items in the treasury. Something tells me you would like it there."_

Oscar would love to say that he wouldn't be tempted like this, but he knew denial would likely not work. Even if the spirit wouldn't read all his thoughts after all, it was a safe guess that anyone who worked as a farmhand would like to experience some wealthier kind of life, and Oscar couldn't claim to be an exception.

And besides, while he still did not fully believe the spirit, it had a fair point. If, by some cosmic chance, Oscar was the one to host the Emperor's spirit, turning away from such an opportunity would be... words such as 'shameful' and 'cowardly' came to mind, but the most accurate was probably 'wasteful'. Who could refuse such a high calling? Even if Oscar was reasonably happy on his farm, how would he feel about himself if he turned the Emperor himself down?

 _"Alright, I'll do it."_ It took Oscar nearly a minute to bring himself to finally form that thought. When he finally did, he felt a mixture of relief, having made that choice, and fear for what would come next.

 _"Splendid!"_ The spirit exclaimed triumphantly. _"Now, there is about half a thousand miles between us and Vale, so you better prepare thoroughly. Luckily that cart of yours can carry a lot of food, it seems."_

And then there was the regret...


	2. The Shining Beacon

The mass of human bodies pushed Oscar through the gate. The sheer number of people on that small a space overwhelmed him, crowd larger and more dense than anything the boy had seen thus far. Even in Cairn, even on the most busy days, there was no reason for so many people to gather so tightly.

Vale was something else. Oscar heard a lot about the capital city, how large and well defended it was, but he never truly imagined what it meant in practice. Only when he saw this giant city and the walls surrounding it he could truly appreciate the scale... and only when he ventured into the city himself did he realize what problems it entailed. There were only a few entrances in the walls, which made sense if people wanted to be ready for a Grimm invasion, but it meant that getting in meant being a part of a rather large crowd of incomers who wished to do just the same.

Aside from the inconvenience though, getting into Vale had been surprisingly easy. The guards only paid each visitor a passing glance, as long as they weren't carrying any cargo. Oscar imagined entering the city would be challenge on itself, but it turned out you couldn't properly monitor every person entering a city of... what was it, a million people?

 _"Eight hundred thousand, actually."_ The spirit who could or could not be the Emperor himself corrected. _"It is still the largest city in the world, according to most current estimates at least."_

 _"Hey, you promised not to read my, thoughts like that."_ Oscar objected. _"Only the ones I form myself, or something like that."_

_"I am making an exception. Now that we are almost here, I need to make extraordinarily sure you cannot screw anything up."_

_"I get that."_ Oscar replied. _"So, do you know any good exorcists around here? Or if you think it's hopeless, where is the nearest lunatic asylum?"_

 _"Very funny."_ The spirit remarked. _"But by now you seem more or less convinced that I am not deceiving you. Correct me if I am wrong."_

He wasn't. Though Oscar still had his doubts as to its true nature, the spirit had provided him with factual and useful information throughout their journey. It knew exactly what road to take and could measure the exact amount of supplies they needed in a way Oscar himself wouldn't be able to. Grimm spirits normally didn't do that, they just told you to kill people. So maybe it really was the Emperor who decided to invade his head.

 _"Alright, what do we do now?"_ Oscar surrendered himself to the spirit's judgment.

 _"Now we go to the Beacon Palace."_ The spirit replied, as though it was something obvious. _"I thought we had that settled."_

_"Well yeah, but how do we get in there? Don't you have, like, a small army guarding the place?"_

_"We can prove your identity as my host easily enough. All we need is for the guards to entertain you for a bit, which I'm fairly sure they will. They know that I have to return eventually and it is highly improbable they will shoot you on sight."_

__"Highly improbable?"_ Oscar cocked an eyebrow, which had to look weird for anyone who saw that._

__"Very improbable. One, two percent chance at most."_ The spirit reassured him._

__"I'm not sure if I like those odds, but fine." Oscar sighed. _"What happens next? Do I just get crowned the new Emperor right away? You were never too specific about that part."__ _

____"That is because I wasn't sure myself."_ The reply came. _"I didn't know just how much our souls would have mended by now, how much of my memories would you have. Not much, turns out."__ _ _

____"And that means..."_ _ _ _

____"That you cannot just take over the Empire, lest it falls apart under your governance. But you cannot stay out of the matters entirely, for nobles might grow impudent in my absence. I suppose I will have to discuss this with my seneschal. Sigh."_ The voice literally said 'sigh'. It couldn't sigh, because it had no breath._ _ _

____"Can't you just tell me what to do, each step of the way? You've been doing just that so far."_ _ _ _

____"I only ever gave you general directions."_ The spirit replied. _"I cannot steer your every action. It would not be quick enough during combat or a tense conversation and besides, talking to you costs me quite a bit of mental energy. I cannot keep this up for very long."__ _ _

____"Then how about you tune out for now?"_ Oscar offered. _"I will call you once we reach the palace. I think I can find the way myself."__ _ _

___There was no reply, which Oscar interpreted as agreement. With a sigh, a real one, he made his way through Vale's streets._ _ _

___His annoyance gradually went away as he got a better look at the city. It looked impressive from afar, but now that he was inside and without the crowds obscuring his vision, Oscar could truly appreciate the scale. Smaller buildings were built right next to another, while the truly important ones stood tall and separate from the mundanity of houses and warehouses. These were chapels, taverns, libraries and some buildings Oscar didn't even know the purpose off. Each of these buildings attracted people, people of all skin tones, hairstyles and clothing, some of which were nothing alike anything Oscar had seen thus far._ _ _

___Not all of them were human. There were also the faunus, with all kinds of animal traits, walking openly and seemingly without shame. Oscar had seen faunus before, obviously, but there were only a handful of them in his neighborhood and they usually kept to themselves. To see so many in one place, including the truly strange ones such a woman with a bright-green skin or a man with huge bat-like wings, was something new to him. It was as though, fourteen years into his life, he finally got to see some of the wider world._ _ _

___The world he was about to rule._ _ _

___Somehow, even after accepting that Emperor Ozpin was likely the voice in his head, Oscar never truly considered what it meant. Now that he was approaching the Beacon Palace, its tip already visible from behind all the other buildings, he was faced with the reality of his situation. And now that he saw the crowds of thousands, he realized just how big Vale was and what it meant to rule over it._ _ _

___Was it hard? It must have been. Would the responsibility break him? Or maybe he would go mad with power like the tyrants of old? Or maybe he would be simply judged too incompetent to have any power and made a puppet emperor until Ozpin could take over his body? Somehow the last scenario seemed comforting, if not exactly pleasant._ _ _

___The grim thoughts kept running through Oscars head until he realized he had reached the destination. The Palace of Beacon. Royal residence for the last two hundred years, personally built by one of the Emperor's incarnations. It looked unlike anything Oscar had seen thus far, looking out of place even in a place like Vale. It was not a castle in the usual sense, but it had high walls and looked like it could withhold a siege. It was lavish with how decorated it was, but there was something fake about this. As though the palace had been built for dozen different purposes and struggled to fulfill each one._ _ _

___At least the description the spirit gave him was accurate. It confirmed that Oscar wasn't crazy, though it also confirmed he was far out of his depth._ _ _

___Oscar forced himself to focus on the moment. There was a fence separating the palace from the street, a reasonable precaution considering how many people stood there either just admiring the building, or praying as though they were in a temple. None of them attempted to get inside though, probably because there were armed guards at the other side of the fence, patrolling the yard as though they were expecting to be attacked at any moment._ _ _

____"Um, I think now's the moment."_ Oscar thought, trying to summon Ozpin back. _"Now's the moment you need to help me get in."__ _ _

____"Just ask these fellows to lead you inside."_ The spirit replied. _"I doubt there is any harm in asking."__ _ _

___Nervously, Oscar approached the main gate, ignoring the confused looks he got from the people around him. He grabbed the iron bars and shook them, successfully catching the attention of a nearby guard._ _ _

___Said guard was wearing full armor, silver-grey in color save for a golden trim. He was tall, easily six feet and some and quite broad in the shoulders. Just the kind of guy you hired to scare off potential intruders. With a gesture of his hand he summoned three more guards, not quite as buff but still armed to the teeth, the four of them gathering on the other side of the gate._ _ _

___"What is it?" The guard's voice was a lot higher than Oscar would expect it to be, which made him a little less scary. A little. "You've got a message or something like that, or are you just bothering us for the sake of it?"_ _ _

___"I..." Oscar barely found the courage to speak, but not quite enough not to stutter. "There is a thing..."_ _ _

___"There are many things around here." The tall guard sneered. "Come on kid, spit it out."_ _ _

____"Just say it."_ Ozpin encouraged. _"You will not gain anything by mincing words."__ _ _

___"I think I might have the Emperor in my head." Oscar said, somehow managing to avoid stuttering. He watched the guards_ _ _

___"Another one?" The tall guard chuckled. "Get in the queue kid. Someone like you comes to us twice a day."_ _ _

___"But I'm being serious!" Oscar protested. "He is talking to me right now!"_ _ _

___"Then how about you see a doctor?" Another guard suggested. "We are not here to deal with crazies."_ _ _

___"But..." Oscar had trouble finding the words to convince the guards of his sanity, mostly because he wasn't all that convinced himself. "But it tells me stuff I didn't know otherwise... he has to be real."_ _ _

___"Yeah, we heard that too." The tall guard said dismissively. "Get out before we need to force you out."_ _ _

____"I think you would be wise by listening to him."_ Ozpin advised._ _ _

____“What!”_ Oscar exclaimed mentally. “You’ve been telling me to go there for weeks and now you want me to back off!?”_ _ _

___“I want you not to get beaten up or shot.”_ Ozpin replied. _“And both of these start looking like very real possibilities.”__ _

__Oscar had to concede. At the moment the guards seemed merely amused, maybe just a little annoyed, but he suspected they would get angrier if he persisted. They had the weapons and numbers to beat him black and blue and they almost certainly had the right to do so – after all, what meant the life of some boy without family or title, next to the security of the royal palace?_ _

__Not seeing any other option, Oscar obeyed. He turned around and walked away from the gate, hearing some chuckles from both behind the fence and from the rest of the crowd. Apparently no one took his claims seriously enough to even be offended at the blasphemy and instead Oscar just ended up giving people a cheap laugh._ _

__Maybe that was justified. Maybe he was just one of dozens, if not hundreds of crazy young boys who thought themselves the next Emperor._ _

___“I still see your mind and I know you don’t really believe that.”_ Ozpin pointed out. _“Just because society does not believe in you does not mean you should doubt yourself.”__ _

___“Thanks for encouragement, but how does your wisdom help me?”_ Oscar replied snarkfully. _“It doesn’t matter how confident I am if no one believes what I’m saying.”__ _

___“Mister Winchester and his subordinates are just being unprofessional. If you can get in touch with the seneschal, or anyone who actually remembers the protocols I gave them, I’m sure everything will be sorted out in no time.”_ _ _

___“Well, unless you can give me some mystic power to blast your own guards to oblivion, I don’t think I will be able to talk to anyone like that.”_ _ _

___“I would rather avoid such a forceful solution. Perhaps we should be more… inventive about how we approach the problem.”_ _ _

___“What do you mean?”_ Oscar had the worst feeling about what was coming._ _

___“I happen to know how the guards tend to operate and I could point you to the exact place and time you could enter… uninvited.”_ _ _

__Oscar didn’t stare blankly at Ozpin, due to one of them being a spirit, but the sentiment was there._ _

____

/-/

As the sun started to set and the street gradually emptied, Oscar reconsidered his choices for what was probably a hundredth time.

Breaking into the Beacon Palace was crazy. It was more crazy than anything Oscar had done so far, on a whole another level of crazy. Prior to this moment, he hadn’t really risked his life, or at least haven’t put it in too much risk. Throughout his entire journey, there was always an option to turn back and that made him less afraid, more willing to press onward. Now that he was committing a crime, a serious crime at that, something that would surely burn all his bridges behind him. It could very well result in his untimely death, though Ozpin assured him that the probability of that shouldn’t be larger than one in ten. 

Ozpin wasn’t very good at reassuring.

 _“Look, the plan is as solid as it can be.”_ The spirit said. _“We will enter the courtyard just before the change of shifts, in the place where the fence goes over the garden. Even if someone is watching, you will be partially obscured. Then all you have to do is enter the building proper and just scream that you are my latest hosts. Someone will entertain you, and I am certain we can prove your honesty.”_

 _“Sounds great, unless I get shot on arrival.”_ Oscar muttered. _“Or stabbed. Or killed in some other fun way.”_

 _“It is a possibility.”_ Ozpin admitted. _“But only if you make a mistake. Which I’m here to ensure you won’t.”_

Oscar sighed, forcing himself to remain calm. As much as he wanted to turn back and flee, it was probably already impossible. He wouldn’t know how to survive in a large city such as this and he didn’t have the supplies for the way back home. And then there was this whole thing with tremendous responsibility on his shoulders and all… responsibility of which a certain voice would not stop reminding him.

Point was, there was no return. Having taken a deep breath, Oscar approached the iron fence, sized it up and attempted to climb over it.

The task was tough, but far from impossible. The fence was probably not meant to prevent thieves from passing, but to scare them off and give them a pause if they decided to try and break in anyway. If the guards were still watching, Oscar would have been seen in the minute it took him to defeat his first obstacle, but Ozpin was right in his assessment – at this specific hour no one was watching this precise spot. 

Careful not to hurt himself on the sharp tips of the iron bars that made up the fence, Oscar jumped onto the other side, entering the garden. Soft dirt broke his fall, though he happened to land on some flower, rose from the looks of it. Oscar felt a little bad – being careful not to hurt plants, especially valuable flowers, was an important part of his life as a farmer.

Though in all fairness, the rose probably wasn’t the most valuable thing in the garden. There was a lot of strange, exotic plants growing in every corner of this rather large patch of land, ranging from other pretty flowers to artistically trimmed bushes. Some things Oscar couldn’t describe even with his knowledge, plants that looked nothing like anything he had ever worked with, or even seen with his own eyes.

 _“Focus on your task, young man.”_ Ozpin reminded him. _“Lest one of the gruesome scenarios you keep imagining will actually come to pass.”_

Oscar did not need to be told that twice. Snapping himself back to attention, he slowly walked out of the garden, trying not to make any noise nervously looking around all the while. Luckily there was no one watching and Oscar could take a good look at the building now that he was so close.

From such a short distance, the palace didn’t look all that strange. A building that, while unusually big and sturdy, was still just a building with walls and a roof. Said walls were rather high, matching all but the tallest of cathedrals in terms of height. There were some windows, but most were closed and all were too high for Oscar to reach without climbing, and with how smooth the wall was, he couldn’t imagine climbing up successfully.

He sighed. It was sort of funny how something that probably wasn’t even intended as a security measure was better at stopping him than the small army guarding the estate. But funny or not, it was a problem, as Oscar now wasn’t quite sure how to actually enter the building.

 _“I think I have an idea.”_ Ozpin offered. _“You may try the front door.”_

 _“Just knock on the door?”_ Oscar expressed his doubt. _“That doesn’t sound like a good way to perform a burglary.”_

 _“Exactly. You are not a burglar, but the rightful owner of the estate and the… employer of everyone who works there. It wouldn’t be proper for you to use anything but the front door.”_

Not convinced in the slightest but seeing no other option, Oscar proceeded to head towards where he thought the front door was. He kept close to the wall, so that no one would see him from any of the windows and so that he wouldn’t be instantly noticed by someone casting a look at the lawn. 

It seemingly worked, at least until Oscar was forced to go around a corner. Then he unwittingly kicked something, something that he soon realized was an armed guard. He wore full armor, not unlike the ones he saw at the gate, except there was no helmet and the guard’s head was adorned only by unkempt, blonde hair. He sat there, his back against the wall, with sword at one side and pistol at another, looking quite dangerous by Oscar’s standards.

The boy barely stopped himself from screaming out as he jumped back, instinctively raising his arms to defend himself. When he realized that his limited combat skills would be next to useless in that scenario, he instead begged for any power he might have received from the spirit of the Emperor to manifest itself at this exact moment.

But then Oscar realized another thing. That guard he bumped into… he was asleep. Dead asleep, so that not even violent impact with Oscar managed to wake him up. He was just sitting there, merrily snoring, without any contact with his surroundings.

 _“Really, Mister Arc?”_ Ozpin said, as if more to himself than to Oscar or anyone else. _“I suppose this makes our job easier, but I am really disappointed in my guards’ performance.”_

 _“Now you’re getting distracted.”_ Oscar pointed out as he made his way towards the entrance. _“Stay with me in case I need you.”_

There was no reply, but somehow Oscar knew Ozpin agreed. It was weird, probably a sign that their minds were gradually merging and probably something to be concerned about, but there were more immediate worries at the moment. Careful not to wake the guard up after all, Oscar passed the sleeping man in a wide circle an made his way forward.

Luckily the entrance was just around that corner and Oscar soon found himself standing before huge wooden double door, with elaborated patterning and doorknob painted gold. Or maybe the doorknob was actually made of gold – considering how lavish this place was, Oscar wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

Highly nervous but knowing he had to hurry, Oscar knocked on the door. It felt silly, as though he was entering his own house – then again, he technically was doing just that – but there wasn’t anything else he could do other than knock and wait.

After but a few seconds, the door got opened by a young woman. She was about Oscar’s height – which meant she was really rather short – had fair, almost pale skin and long, white hair worn in a ponytail. She wore a short dress in a color of cold blue, and even though it was fairly simple, something about the texture and the taint of the dress told Oscar that it was probably worth more than all he had ever earned. Curiously though, the girl wore nothing on her feet, spoiling the picture of elegancy a little. Only a little, as she made up for it in her confident posture and a perfectly serene, yet polite facial expression.

“I welcome you to the…” She said, but cut off the moment her blue eyes scanned Oscar properly. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

And yet again, Oscar found himself lost for words. Even though he had thought himself prepared, even though he knew exactly what to do this time, he couldn’t bring himself to scream out or even say why he was there. For some reason, he found himself totally dumbstruck.

“Please tell me those aren’t your hormones speaking out.” Ozpin said, his mental voice for once sounding afraid. Whatever these ‘hormones’ were, thy had to be something terrible.

“Perhaps you haven’t heard me the first time.” The girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Who are you and what are you doing here? You are not an invited guest, are you?”

“Well…” Oscar struggled to say anything. Somehow, that girl was just as scary as the armed guards outside. “…not exactly, I just…”

“Then how did you get past the gate? Or have you entered the royal estate illegally?”

“I didn’t enter the usual way.” Oscar admitted. “The guards wouldn’t let me in. But I have a reason for being here…”

“A thief then.” The girl’s voice took a hostile tinge. “Well I know exactly what to do with the likes of you.”

Before Oscar could ask what exactly that was, the white-haired girl grabbed him by the ear and, with surprising strength, dragged him through the doorframe and into the building. He would have struggled, but then he realized that getting inside was exactly what he had been hoping for – though the method was certainly not ideal – so he decided to just go along for the time being.

The inside of the palace was just as lavish as the outside, or at least it seemed like it judging by the parts Oscar was able to see. The walls were painted in different colors and occasionally adorned by painting or frescos, quite a lot of them in fact. Light was provided by a multitude of candles placed everywhere, from singular glims just strong enough to illuminate the surroundings, to chandeliers that were likely worth a small fortune each.

There were other people roaming the corridors. Men and women, humans and faunus, wearing different clothes and generally looking nothing alike, except they all looked fairly young and most didn’t wear any footwear, in the likeness of Oscar’s captor. He tried crying out to some of the passersby, but whenever he did the girl simply pulled his ear with greater force and his yelps went ignored. It looked like no one wanted to get in the way of the angry maiden, with which Oscar could sort of sympathize.

Eventually they reached a crossing, where Oscar saw a person unlike anyone else in the palace, or for that matter unlike anyone he had ever seen before. A woman in a formal dress, wearing blond hair in a ban and with ovular glasses over her green eyes. She wore heels, but even without them she would be just about the tallest woman Oscar had ever seen, her height combined with her currently stern expression making her scarier than even the other woman, who by the way was still holding Oscar captive, preventing him from even attempting to escape.

 _“Ah, Glynda.”_ Ozpin said, with audible relief. _“Even in this life you prove invaluable.”_

Oscar couldn’t quite understand this relief, as the woman looked pretty damn scary to him. She fixed the arrivals with a an unamused glare – which had the white-haired girl wince slightly, and Oscar wince far more visibly – before sighing with equally little joy.

“I was just about to watch over the change of the shifts, Weiss.” She said. “I hope you are not bothering me with anything unimportant.”

“As you can see, Lady Goodwitch, I have captured an intruder.” The girl addressed as ‘Weiss’ stated. “He somehow got past our defenses, but for some reason decided to approach the front door afterwards. He knows too much and acts too strange to be just a regular thief.”

“I just went through the fence, that’s all.” Oscar said, hoping to deflect at least part of the accusation. About then he realized that it was one of the worst things he could have said.

“You claim to be thief, then.” The tall woman, Glynda, fixed her stare on the boy. “I suppose that’s only logical, given your station. Stealing is one of the more harmless things you could have been doing here.

“I’m not a thief!” Oscar protested. “I came here for an important reason.”

“Are you claiming to have invaded the Beacon Palace for religious reasons, then?” Glynda asked. “Or are you admitting that you are our enemy?”

“What?” Oscar blinked.

“He’s just playing dumb.” Weiss growled. “He’s probably someone from Atlas seeking revenge, or maybe one of those White Fang…”

“Silence.” Glynda ordered, not loudly, but very seriously. “I haven’t asked you for your suspicions. I am asking the suspect, and I am yet to receive a straight reply.” She then returned to glaring at Oscar. “You may think your words through if that helps, but I demand an answer. Why have you come here?”

Oscar took a deep breath, grateful for a moment’s reprieve. In truth, there wasn’t that much to think about; Even without the voice in his head, he knew that it was about time to say what he came here to say.

“I believe the spirit of the Emperor is in my head.” Oscar said, his voice trembling slightly. “Or in my soul. Or maybe he is just me at this point, I’m not entirely sure.”

This struck both women into silence. Both now wore expressions that Oscar couldn’t discern, except Weiss certainly seemed shocked while Glynda showed casual interest, among other things. In any case, Oscar would take those emotions over the ones he had feared the most – disbelief and mockery, which could well end his quest right here.

“Interesting.” The taller woman finally said. “You will be answering some questions, which I shall ask personally. Weiss, please return to your station.”

“But…” The white-haired girl attempted to protest, but got cut off almost immediately.

“That’s an order.” Glynda’s voice still wasn’t quite loud, but it had taken a dangerous edge. Or rather a new level of a dangerous edge, one that gave Oscar a shiver. “I do not need your assistance anymore. Go back to your duties. If your suspicions are correct and this boy is but a common thief, your lack of professionalism will earn you a slap on the wrist. If his claims are true, the consequences will be far more severe.”

The girl paled, as much as her already white skin allowed, but instead of saying anything else she bowed down, turned away and trotted down the corridor. And just like that, Oscar was left with the scary-looking woman, who was once again looking at him with interest.

Oscar swallowed. He wanted to ask Glynda what she had meant just now, but then remembered he had far more important questions. “You… do you believe me?”

“I neither believe nor disbelieve you.” She replied neutrally. “I shall give you a chance to form my opinion. Follow me please.”

/-/

Oscar was let into a room that sort of resembled an office of a tax accountant. Except not really, as no tax accountant could afford an office like that. It was large, with much free space between the circular walls, and was furnished in a way that left no doubt as to its owner’s immense wealth. The desk was made out of some unusual kind of dark wood and polished to a gleam, and there was a strange device hanged on the wall. It took a moment for Oscar to recognize it as a clock – but not one of the huge ones you would see attached to a tower, but a funny looking miniature version. Oscar supposed it befitted a place like this – strange new inventions were as good a way of showing of wealth as gold and precious stones.

Though aside from these things and a pair of chairs, there wasn’t much in the room, even though there certainly was space for more. It was as though whoever designed the interior had unlimited funds, but little desire to fully utilize those funds.

Glynda drew out one chair and pointed Oscar to another. They then both sat down, one of them calmly, the other one still scanning the room for potential escape routes.

“We should be able to converse here without the risk of being overheard.” Glynda assured, the tone of her voice more pleasant than earlier this evening. “Before we start, may you tell me your name.”

“Oscar.” The boy replied. “Oscar Pines, though I rarely use the last name.”

“It is good to meet you. I am Glynda Goodwitch, for the last seven years serving as a seneschal for the Emperor and his court. Now, may you tell me what exactly had happened to you and why do you think it might be possession by the Emperor?”

“Well…” Oscar was still battling his nerves. “I was sleeping after work as usual, but then I got a dream of being the Emperor Ozpin and fighting a great battle. Then I woke up, went to wash myself and… he kind of started talking to me.”

“By him you mean the Emperor?” Glynda asked, earning a nod from Oscar. “Is he just a voice in your head, for lack of a better term, or does he manifest in some other form.”

“He just talks.” Oscar replied. “But he’s not just a voice, I checked. He tells me stuff I wouldn’t know otherwise, stuff that I think only the Emperor could know.”

“Interesting.” Glynda commented. “Could you please tell me, how many soldiers were in the invasion force sent to Atlas in the first phase of the last war?”

Before Oscar could ask what was the point, he heard the voice coming from the inside. _“Twenty six thousand and three hundred. Just say that.”_

“Twenty six thousand and three hundred.” Oscar parroted.

“The factual age of Valean Empire?”

 _“Six hundred and forty two years”_ Ozpin replied. Oscar repeated faithfully.

“Correct. But can you perhaps tell me…” The woman paused for a second, as though trying to make a quick decision. “How many Relics are there in total?”

“What?” Oscar blinked. He didn’t understand the question.

 _“Four.”_ Ozpin came to help. _“But tell her I haven’t explained it yet.”_

“He says there are four, but that he hasn’t explained it yet, whatever it means.” Oscar said without much confidence.

“He is speaking to you right now, then?” Glynda asked, to which she received yet another nod. “Is that the only effect his presence has? Have you ever found yourself simply knowing something you should not?”

“I suppose…” Oscar though of the few times it seemed like he had knowledge he had never been taught the conventional way. Now that he thought about it, the office did look familiar in a way that couldn’t be the result of his own experience. Maybe soul-merging was progressing after all. “But I haven’t noticed anything else as far as effects go.”

“I see. Wait here a moment.” Glynda stood up and exited onto the hallway. Oscar could then hear her say something to someone, but wasn’t able to make out the exact words. Apparently this room really was soundproof, even with the door open.

Was Glynda calling for someone to arrest him? Had she seen some flaw in his answers? Was there a flaw in his answers? Even if the spirit really was who he claimed to be, it wouldn’t be all that improbable for Ozpin to simply misremember something. But as Oscar had long assessed, there was no way out of the room other than through the door, so his chances of successful escape seemed rather slim.

Soon enough, Glynda Goodwitch returned, entering the room and sitting back down as though nothing had happened. Her expression was still perfectly controlled and rather hard to read but seemed… calmer now.

“Well then, Mister Pines.” She said, form some reason addressing him formally now. “I apologize you had so much trouble contacting me. But now that everything is settled we may begin the process of your acclimatization, or so to speak.”

It took Oscar a few seconds to process what was being said. “You believe me!?”

“You have presented me with believable evidence.” Glynda replied. “Are you truly so surprised I believed your words?”

“Well the people by the gate…”

“People by the gate do not come from the same stock as I.” Glynda cut the boy short. “You will soon learn to differentiate between fools and those who can be actually trusted, and learn that the vast majority of people belong to the former category.”

“That sounds… cynical.” Oscar pointed out.

“You saw that with your own eyes.” Glynda insisted. “Fools are everywhere and you have to learn how to deal with them. In fact, I have just set up a little exercise to check if you know the basics.”

Just as Oscar was about to ask what that exercise was supposed to be, another person burst into the room. One he already knew, the white-hair girl from before, though it took him a second to recognize her due to a rather… radical change in her demeanor.

Weiss was no longer elegant, coldly angry or even quietly scared. She looked downright panicked, as though she was being chased by a horde of Grimm or had her execution scheduled in an hour. All the dignity she projected mere minutes ago was replaced with visible fear and desperation. Immediately after entering the room she began frantically moving her yes from Oscar, to Glynda to the marble floor, as though unsure which one she was supposed to be staring at.

“My lady, my lord, I…” She stuttered. “I came to apologize for my…”

“You came to beg for forgiveness.” Glynda cut in, her voice sharp as razors. “Or at least you should be, given your recent incompetence.”

“I’m sorry, I…” The seneschal’s words probably did not help the girl with forming words. She now looked as though she was about to cry. “He said that the guards wouldn’t let him in, I assumed…”

“The guards have shown incompetence as well and will face consequences in due time.” Glynda interrupted again. “They cannot be punished without due process and beyond certain limits, the law provides them with that benefit. Similar protections are not afforded to the likes of you.”

And then Oscar added two and two together.

Of course, every noble with major wealth at their disposal owned at least few slaves to do his menial work. No, not just menial – Oscar heard that in large estates such as this one there were often hundreds of servants, tasked with various tasks of all kinds. It shouldn’t be too surprising that Ozpin, or whoever was responsible for managing the Beacon Palace, would decide to assign one of the slaves as a greeter.

Weiss probably had one of the more pleasant jobs around – she was certainly afforded better clothes than Oscar saw worn by other servants – but she was still a slave, still a subject to punishment without consideration. And she had just basically assaulted her owner, not to mentioned a host to Emperor’s soul. Given all that, her fear was rather easy to understand.

“And besides,” Glynda continued, not aware of Oscar’s mood getting very uneasy. “I am not the one you should be pleading with. I shall leave that decision to my lord, as should you.”

Weiss blinked. Then, the moment she arrived at the understanding, she dropped to her knees, her stare fixed on the floor. 

“Please forgive me, my lord.” She crawled towards Oscar just a little, maybe to make it clear who she was addressing. “I was stupid, I know, but… please be merciful.”

There was a part of Oscar, one that wasn’t Ozpin but fully a part of his own mind, which took pleasure in seeing Weiss like that. At seeing the girl, one who called him a thief and dragged him through half the palace by the ear, scared and reduced to begging for mercy. A part of him even wanted to see the girl punished, if just a little, to repay the pain he had felt mere moments earlier.

The rest of Oscar screamed at that part to shut up. He did not want to be that kind of person. Emperor or not, he was not some petty sadist.

“I get that.” Oscar said slowly. It felt weird talking to someone who wouldn’t meet you in the eye, let alone was kneeling next to your feet, but he had to say something. “You didn’t know who I was. I wasn’t that sure of who I was at the time, and I mean that whole soul merging thing. Well, you could have head me out… but don’t beat yourself over it.” Great, now he had trouble finding the words. “My point is, let’s not treat that as a capital offense or anything, alright?”

“Your willingness to forgive is to be applauded.” Glynda nodded. “I suppose we shall apply the usual punishment for bothering a guest. I’ll tell the overseer to apply ten lashes but without damaging the skin. Given the entire night to recover, she should be able to work next morning with no…”

“No!” Oscar exclaimed the moment the words settled in. “I mean… can’t we just forget about it? I don’t think this situation is going to happen again any time soon. She made a mistake, but no one got harmed, so maybe we don’t change that?”

Silence followed. Glynda stared at Oscar with thinly veiled disapproval, which made him somewhat uncomfortable, but not enough to back at his choice. He couldn’t see Weiss’ expression, the girl still refusing to look up, but she seemed to have calmed down a little, if only due to surprise replacing fear.

“Very well.” The seneschal finally said. She then turned her stare towards the other woman. “I suggest you leave now. There is no more use for your presence.”

Weiss scrambled to her feet, still not meeting anyone in the eye. She stood there for about half a second as though she wanted to say something, but must have decided against it, for she then rushed towards the door and out of the room.

“It is not my place to question your choices.” Glynda said after a moment. “But I believe your attitude might cause some trouble in the future.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask about.” Oscar jumped at the chance to change the subject. “What exactly happens now? Legally speaking, am I the Emperor, or just a container for him? Or something in between?”

“According to all religious and secular laws, you are the new ruler of Vale.” Glynda replied in a way that confirmed Oscar’s worries. “Though given your current state, I would strongly advise against officially taking your due power just now.” She added, remedying some of Oscar’s worries. 

“I’ll trust you on that one.” Oscar nodded. “I was kind of thinking on letting… him make all the choices, but he can only communicate with me every so often.”

“Can he do that right now?” The woman asked. “I have over a year’s worth of updates to fill him in on.”

Oscar asked Ozpin’s that very question, and all he got was a vague feeling of exhaustion. The message was clear – Ozpin did not feel like talking at the moment.

“I think he’s too tired to talk. Probably too tired to listen.” Oscar shrugged. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Glynda nodded. “And frankly, I doubt he is the only one here who needs rest.”

At that moment, Oscar realized how tired he really was. He spent good part of the day marching, another part plotting an attack on the palace and the last part having the most nerve-wrecking conversation of his entire life. He could use some rest, yes.

“Do you have some place I can sleep?” Oscar asked. “Wait, let me guess; You already have a royal bedroom prepared.”

“We were prepared for our Emperor’s return.” Glynda confirmed with a narrow smile. “I will show you the way, Mister Pines.”

/-/

The bedroom Oscar was led to was similar to the office in terms of stylistics. It was far larger than the room Oscar used to sleep in and everything was of far higher quality, but it wasn’t so opulent as to be impractical. If you could ignore the unnerving size, it actually seemed pretty comfortable.

The bed was large enough for two people far larger in size than Oscar and has veil that could cover whoever was inside from the outside world, something Oscar could definitely appreciate. He didn’t wait long before jumping into bed, though he did take his clothes off first – it didn’t feel right to dirty the sheets with that mess he wore, so he threw it all on the ground leaving only the underwear.

“Are you still here?” Oscar asked the spirit in his head, not bothering to keep the conversation purely mental. Partially because he was sure no one would hear him at the moment, but also because he was finally sure it was not just insanity that struck him. “It would really suck if you left me right now.”

 _“Still present. Still not feeling too strong. Yawn.”_ Ozpin replied. _“In case you didn’t get the message, I am pretty tired. I would rather we talk tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”_

“Just tell me one thing.” Oscar requested and, not hearing immediate dismissal, continued. “Do you think I made the right call with that girl? Not deciding to… punish her?”

It wasn’t a question whether Oscar did the right thing or not, he felt pretty good about not choosing to beat someone bloody within an hour since his arrival. The question was whether Ozpin expected him to do something else. If the answer was ‘yes’… that would be a solid reason to worry.

 _“I do not wish Miss Schnee ill, so I’m not unhappy with that choice.”_ Ozpin replied tiredly. _“Still, I think Glynda is right to worry about your attitude. You are soft, not shaped to rule or command.”_

“Will that be a problem?”

 _“Certainly. But not a problem I wish to discuss right now. I’ve been through that too many times already.”_ Ozpin’s voice now seemed tired in a new way, that of an old man reminiscing about his youth. “Get some sleep, young man. It’s one luxury you will not be afforded to your heart’s content in days to come.”

Oscar obeyed, finding the task rather easy. He had no problem falling sleep, even without anything to read – his mind was just as tired as his body now. Still, the worry lingered in his mind and it wouldn’t leave even as he drifted into sleep.

He felt as though his troubles were just about to start for real.


End file.
